Book One - Of Love And War
by Arabella Figgy
Summary: Chapter Three! 'By the time the Fifth Year Gryffindors had filed into her classroom, Arabella was quite certain she had developed at least 2 peptic ulcers, if not one more for good measure.'
1. What Was Old Is New Again

Book One

Of Love And War

By Arabella Figgy

Prologue – What Was Old Is New Again

The steam of the engine made her think she was on a cloud, rather than a platform she hadn't stepped on for years to go on a train to a place she had tried not to think about for almost as long. Platform 9 and three-quarters hadn't changed since her youth; it had remained constant while all those on it changed as rapidly as the seasons. With a sigh, Arabella Figg turned her back to the crowds of chattering students and sat in a compartment near the back.

How many years had it been since she had sat in one of these compartments, waiting anxiously for the beginning of another term? It seemed like a hundred. Ever since the Fall, she covered herself in the shroud as one of the Ministry's Best; the cool, confident Auror, not ever letting herself out, until one day the Arabella underneath ceased to try. That was partially why she had accepted the position as DADA professor. What better way to reclaim her lost soul than the place where she had never felt more alive?

Of course, Arabella mused as she stowed her small satchel above her seat, it isn't ever going to be the same. Remus would be laying low; he had told her that himself in the letter. And the others… the others were best not dwelled on. She had tried her best to drive herself crazy thinking about the past, and quite frankly the emotional gauntlet she had already thrown down for herself was plenty for the meantime.

Sitting down and watching the countryside gradually gain speed; she tried to lose herself in the scenery rather than her own painful memories. _Of course, _she thought with a smile, _if that doesn't work, I could always stun myself._

Trying to stave off all the feelings that were threatening to overwhelm her, she stared up at the ceiling, but all that managed to do was cause the tears to fall down the sides of her face and into her ears. 

"Way to go, Figg," she said, trying to grin in spite of the tears.

The door to the compartment slid open, and Arabella hastily dried her tears with the edge of her cloak. 

"Stupid prat," a voice from behind the door said as a girl with rather frizzy hair and clutching a ginger cat stepped in. A tall redheaded boy followed, his back to Arabella as he continued his conversation with the third, a shorter boy with dark untidy hair and brilliant green eyes. The girl and the shorter of the boys cowered slightly when they spotted Arabella, but the red-haired boy plowed on. "'Hey Potter'," he said, mimicking a slow, affected drawl, "'Where'd you get that mangy mutt?' I swear, that…" He trailed off as he too finally spotted the teacher in the midst, but she was otherwise occupied.

The mangy mutt in question sat on the floor, looking up at her, recognition in his large eyes. She, of course mirrored the expression.

"Sirius!"

Author's Note: Ok, so everyone's wondering what's going on here. Basically, I'm re-writing all my stuff, as I'm really REALLY ashamed of my previous efforts. I mean, the plot, characters are all lousy! So anyways, I wanted to slow down the pace and really do a good job on this. So here we go! The re-written Books Of Hogwarts! Yippie!


	2. The Past Is Catching Up With Us

Of Love And War  
  
By Arabella Figgy  
  
Chapter One – The Past Is Catching Up With Us  
  
Hermione Granger had a reputation as quick on her feet, especially where teachers were concerned. So as Harry and Ron stood, dumbfounded by this stranger's recognition of what they had assumed was the secret Animagus form of Harry's godfather, Hermione did what she does best.  
  
"I'm sorry, but did you call Harry's dog 'Sirius'? You must be confused. This is Snuffles. The only Sirius I can think of is the Dog Star. Are you our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Ron Weasely and Harry Potter. You are…?"  
  
She had said all of this so quickly that for a moment Arabella was stunned. However, she too had once been the legitimate front for her friends' more dubious efforts and knew exactly what was behind those words.  
  
"I am Professor Arabella Figg and that is NOT 'Snuffles!' Now I want to know…" she began, but before she could verbalize an empty threat, the boy who was obviously Harry Potter spoke up.  
  
"Uh, hate to interrupt, but I think I hear the lunch cart! Bye!" Before she could blink, the three children and 'Snuffles' had run out of the compartment and Arabella could only stare at the open door they left. Shaking her head, she slowly slid it closed, chuckling. It really was like old times, only this time; she was the teacher getting duped.  
  
"I must be getting paranoid," she said, sitting back down, "I mean, Sirius Black, escaped criminal, hanging about with Harry Potter, the boy who lived, on the Hogwarts express. Right."  
  
But still… those eyes…  
  
Ron was panting heavily by the time they found another compartment. At first, Harry thought it was just from running like fools around the train, but when he saw fear in his eyes, his own heart began to pound.  
  
"What's wrong, Ron? You look like you just saw the Bloody Baron!"  
  
"Ara… Arabella Figg is an Auror! Like… a big one!" This garnered an eye roll from Hermione, but Harry was very interested.  
  
"She worked with Mad-eye Moody all those years, tracking down You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters! She's a good friend of my mum and dad, and she still works for the Ministry! I mean, what if she thinks she's found the infamous Sirius Black! I mean, she doesn't know about the whole not-a-murderer, your nice godfather Sirius Black!"  
  
Hermione looked up, a look of mild confusion apparent on her face. "I don't think that was suspicion in her eyes, Ron." She said this quietly, which in and of itself was odd for her, but Harry sensed something else as well.  
  
"Really? What do you think it was Hermione?" He said this without a hint of derision in his voice, but Hermione still bristled.  
  
"I don't know!" Harry smiled. The irritation on her face showed just how much not knowing something bothered her. "I just don't…"  
  
"There you go, Herm," Ron interrupted, "With that 'Teachers Are Infallible' bit of yours. It wouldn't be smart for us to keep parading Snuffles around her until we know for sure."  
  
"Well Dumbledore obviously hired her!" Hermione said, her voice reaching the higher tones of her register. "And he knows Sirius is innocent!"  
  
"Whatever," Ron said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "All I know is that we should steer clear of her for the meantime."  
  
Sirius set his head on his paws at Harry's feet. He reached down and scratched his godfather between the ears.  
  
"Sure wish you could transform here, Snuffles," Harry said. "I bet you know all about her, huh?" With that, Sirius looked up at Harry with very sad eyes, something that he wasn't at all used to seeing. As far as he was concerned, we couldn't get to Hogwarts fast enough.  
  
Disembarking from the Hogwarts Express the trio saw no sign of Arabella. She made sure of that. She watched as they clamored into a horseless carriage along with a small redheaded girl who Arabella was sure was the Weasely's youngest daughter Ginny. That meant the tall boy was most likely Ron. It had been awhile since she had seen any of them. Arthur had timidly approached her almost three months ago, and had been pleasantly surprised to find her already abreast of the situation. Remus had already contacted her at Dumbledore's behest, and she was more than willing to scout out who was willing to believe the truth, the truth that Voldemort had truly returned.  
  
It hadn't been easy. Moody, who had been her main confidant among the Auror was, of course retired. The majority of those who had actually fought during the Dark Times were as well, thus the pool of those who would believe her was greatly reduced. The newer bunch were untried and far too naïve to be trusted with the knowledge that the greatest threat to Wizardom had returned. She was stuck with the handful of those who had fought with her before. The current total was five.  
  
But Dumbledore had other plans for her than sitting and stewing in the Ministry. She had to laugh when she first realized that he was serious about her taking the job. She was kind of ashamed to admit that the first thing that crossed her mind was the look on Snape's face when he found out. Even though she hadn't spoken to him since Hogwarts, she was sure things had not altered one iota since then. They had not gotten along then, and she wasn't about to make and effort to change that.  
  
After the three teenagers had left her compartment, amazingly she had been able to block any further thoughts of Sirius or Hogwarts from her head without the aid of a stunner. This was partially due to what was obviously a 'lover's spat' which took place outside her compartment door.  
  
"But Draco, darling…" a whining female voice pleaded.  
  
"Stop calling me that!" This voice was male. The only Draco she could think of was Draco Malfoy, the son of that prat Lucius. Would he be at Hogwarts? Of course, he was Harry's age. "I don't know where you came up with this half baked…"  
  
"Are you saying we're over?" Arabella had to stifle a snicker. The actors on Neighbors had better line play than this.  
  
"We never were on, Pansy!" The Malfoy boy's slow drawl changed sharply.  
  
"But what about the Yule Ball?"  
  
"Pansy, you blackmailed me into that and you know it." Arabella couldn't see him, but she was certain he was smirking. "Threatening me into taking you hardly is consistent with undying love and devotion. I believe the term for that is stalking, actually."  
  
This Pansy's voice got considerably darker. "You seemed to go along with it quite willingly last December. Perhaps I should let everyone know your little secret."  
  
"Oh yes, I'm quite sure that no one in the school suspects that my father is a Death Eater." Arabella only nearly contained a sharp intake of breath. She and Mad-eye had always been certain that Lucius bought his innocence, and to hear from his own son's mouth was something she never thought she would hear.  
  
"No, I don't think that's going to work this time, dear," he hissed, a cruel emphasis tacked on the end. "Tell anyone whatever you want. It doesn't change the fact that I would rather kiss a Flobberworm than you."  
  
Some very hard footfalls went in opposite directions, and Arabella was left with something other than her past to dwell on.  
  
She had always felt that Lucius was more than a minor functionary. If so, then perhaps Voldemort's right hand man had returned to him. But that brought the questions back to Sirius, and quite frankly that defeated the whole 'stop thinking about Sirius' premise.  
  
Climbing into her own carriage with some of the prefects willing to travel with a teacher, she cleared her mind of all her questions, content that soon enough they all would be answered.  
  
"Oy, Harry!"  
  
Clamoring out of their horseless carriage, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione were greeted by Ron's twin brother's Fred and George. It wasn't as if the suspicious grins on their faces were anything new, but even these two usually took a little longer on school grounds to get into trouble than two minutes.  
  
"Lo, Fred, George," Harry said, a grin on his face. "What are you two up to?"  
  
"Or would have to kill us if you told us?" Ron added.  
  
"Naw, just as long as you didn't tell anyone until the statute of limitations is up," Fred said jauntily. "How long is that again, George?"  
  
"Seven years, last time I checked," added his twin. "I wouldn't go in there at the moment if I were you."  
  
"Why not?" Hermione asked, a suspicious grin of her own forming.  
  
"Well, you see good ol' Peeves left us all sort of 'Welcome Back' present in the entryway this evening."  
  
Just then a there was a loud bang behind the doors. George opened the door wide so they could all see the other students slipping and sliding on a rather large proliferation of blue and green marbles scattered all over the floor, with Peeves cackling above.  
  
"You see, we didn't appreciate falling all over ourselves on our way to learning and enrichment." At this, Hermione snorted. "Well, anyways, we have rigged a bit of a surprise ourselves for our dear Peeves. It just wouldn't do for you four to be caught up in it."  
  
"Now, him," Fred interjected, pointing over at Draco Malfoy, entering the castle without his usual escort of Crabbe and Goyle, "I couldn't care less if he fell on his arse."  
  
"Just what is it that we're avoiding?" Ginny asked, raising one eyebrow. "I mean, I'm not a complete idiot, I think I can avoid a few marbles."  
  
As soon as the words escaped her mouth, the marbles began to shake against the flagged-stone floor, causing Peeves to halt in mid-swoop above a crowd of third years. The marbles then began to shoot, pelting the poltergeist in a rather painful hail of debris.  
  
"That, my dear sister," Fred said, his grin now from ear to ear, "Was what you were avoiding."  
  
After skidding and sliding across the entryway on what was left of the marbles, Harry waved goodbye to 'Snuffles' as he shuffled down the hallway towards the Headmaster's Office. Once he was out of sight, the dog slowed down considerably and seemed to almost mope his way towards the gargoyle. Sitting down for just an instant, the gargoyle sprung aside and there stood Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Ah, yes," the wizened old man said, his eyes twinkling behind the half- moon spectacles. "Right on time, Snuffles." With that, he moved aside and made a sort of bow to the shaggy dog at his feet. Anyone passing by would be more than a little confused at this turn of events, but of course, not to anyone who actually had been in Hogwarts for any amount of time at all.  
  
The rode up the moving staircase in silence, not surprising as Sirius still hadn't transformed. As soon as the door was closed, however a very human Sirius Black was speaking a great deal.  
  
"She was on the train, Albus! You didn't tell me that she accepted," Sirius said, his voice sounding oddly strained and his eyes over-bright.  
  
"Well, you never did ask, Sirius," Dumbledore said patiently, although his white mustache did twitch. "Arabella is desperately needed here, as you are, my boy. We need her help. I know your history, however…"  
  
"History? Professor, it's a little more than simply a history. I mean…" Dumbledore calmly silenced him with an upheld hand.  
  
"I know, Sirius, but unfortunately that is for you two to deal with. We need every card in our deck in order to defeat him this time. That includes both of you."  
  
Sirius bowed his head, his forearms against his knees. He looked like a man broken.  
  
"You know what happened, don't you?" he said, looking up at the old man before, seeming to try and grasp a sliver of comfort, even if there was none there. "She left. She saw me, and the explosion, and left."  
  
Dumbledore went up to Sirius and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You need to speak with her yourself. She needs to know, and besides," he said as he walked over to the door and opened it. "You need to stop letting the past dictate the present. This isn't the time to be living in yesterday's sorrows."  
  
With that, Albus left for the Great Hall, and Sirius was left with his own thoughts.  
  
After he had grabbed the satchel of food prepared for him by Dobby on the request of Dumbledore, Sirius, once again under the guise of 'Snuffles' lumbered up to the cave he had stayed in during the Triwizard Tournament last year. Dumbledore had agreed that this would be the safest place for him to stay. Remus could lay low at the castle and attract far less attention that a shaggy black dog, even at Hogwarts.  
  
He couldn't help but feel like he'd run a marathon as he transformed once more into a human. The day had been rough on him, to say the least. He could still remember the casual way Dumbledore had thrown her name into 'the old crowd' in the hospital wing that night. He was mildly ashamed that he hadn't the guts to go to her himself. Remus had given him the token 'you've got to face her sometime' speech, but it just didn't seem right. It had been two years on the run for him, and it seemed from his end that every day during those years had emphasized his guilt in her eyes…  
  
He blinked through the blue-gray smoke, making the whole scene in front of him more dreamlike and unbelievable. There were Muggles all about, some screaming and crying in fear, some lying on the ground, apparently dead. A gaping crack in the street opened to the sewer below, where Sirius spotted a long, wormlike tail slithering down into the crevasse. Peter had escaped.  
  
Not only did he escape, he had effectively framed Sirius in his murder along with a dozen or so Muggles thrown in for good measure. The irony was not lost on him; he would probably rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life for the murder he had failed to commit. He began to laugh, but not his usual chuckle. This was the laugh of the insane, the laugh that grips the soul and convinced the Muggles still around that he truly was mad.  
  
He looked up as the swishing of cloaks heralded the arrival of the Ministry. The fragments of his mind slowly reassembled as he saw Arabella turn towards him. In that instant, he felt his heart break.  
  
"No." She looked as if she wanted to turn her eyes from him, but was utterly powerless to do so. "It can't be." Her voice sounded curiously childlike, almost broken with sadness and disbelief.  
  
"Oh God." Mad-eye Moody clunked up beside her. "Sirius Black."  
  
Arabella looked towards him again, and in that moment Sirius willed every fiber in his being into making her believe in his innocence, even if she was the only one who did. He thought he saw something flicker there in her dark brown eyes, but they hardened over, and she had turned away.  
  
"Moody, I'm sure you'll understand, but I just can't be here." Her voice was still edgy, but now detached as well. "I'll make my excuses to Barty." With that she Disapparated, leaving him to his haunted memories for the next twelve years…  
  
…And now she was back. Nothing he had heard since escaping had eliminated the possibility that she thought he was a covert Death Eater; that he had sold Lily and James to Voldemort. Even Remus hadn't believed him until he knew of the existence of Pettigrew. The thing was, if she really thought him guilty, why didn't she come and find him on the train? After all, it wouldn't have been hard for her to track him down in that contained area, not withstanding her extensive training as an Auror. Did she have doubts? Didn't she wonder why he was with Harry Potter, the son of the man he supposedly betrayed? It just didn't add up.  
  
That did not mean that he was prepared to reveal himself on a hunch. They were both fighting the same enemy now; that much was certain. However, he couldn't see how things would ever be the way they were. Too much had changed. There was every possibility she thought he was with Voldemort right now. Lying down on the cold floor of the cave, he fell into a fitful sleep, punctuated with dreams of Arabella vanishing before his eyes.  
  
"My dear, this will be your office, and you will find your room behind that statue of Morgana in the corner. Classes begin tomorrow morning at eight sharp, and there will be a space reserved for you at the High Table at all meals naturally. Your schedule of classes is on your desk. I dare say you remember where your classroom is?"  
  
Arabella had to smile. When she had a reputation for, among other things, knowing the school like the back of her hand.  
  
"I think I can remember, professor." Dumbledore returned the smile.  
  
"It's been long enough, Arabella. Please call me Albus. I'm very glad you came to join us. I know it had to be hard to give up your career."  
  
Arabella shrugged, but the blush that darkened her normally pale skin told how she really felt. "I didn't plan on being an Auror my whole life anyway. Heaven knows the paperwork alone was enough to kill me." She managed a flippant grin. "Besides, with Voldemort back, my place is here."  
  
"Well said. I'll leave you to survey your new home. I still have to reprimand those young Weasely boys for irritating our local irritation." The twinkle in his eye told Arabella that more than likely he would be asking for tips rather than doling out detention.  
  
The door closed behind him, and Arabella sank into her new chair, still trying to piece together the events of the day. During the Sorting Feast, Harry and his friends kept shooting furtive looks up towards her at the High Table. She wasn't quite sure what they were expecting her to do. It's not as if she was going to jump onto the table and start shrieking 'Sirius Black is a Dog!' or something! She supposed from their point of view she was the suspicious Auror who was more than likely on the trail of the notorious Sirius Black. Most of her colleagues at the Ministry certainly believed him guilty. She herself had many doubts before today. But the way Dumbledore kept looking at her during the Feast, and from the look in his eyes, she was certain that Sirius had rejoined his master.  
  
And that master was Albus Dumbledore. 


	3. First Day Jitters

A/N: Well, here's another chappie from your friendly neighborhood Figgy. I hope I didn't take too long, so on with the show!  
  
Dedication: Thanks to Sakura, my beta and to Jelly, my pal. We'll be waiting for ya, toots!  
  
Of Love And War  
  
By Arabella Figgy  
  
Chapter Two - First Day Jitters  
  
Try as she might, Arabella couldn't sleep. She knew that it was incredibly stupid to lie awake, tossing and turning on the last night before she had to teach, but it wasn't as if she planned it this way.  
  
Getting up to look out the window, she had a breathtaking view of the grounds below. The light of the waxing moon was enough to illuminate the lake below, washing the landscape in a luminescent glow that was almost painfully beautiful. She almost expected to see James and Sirius racing into the forest, with Remus trying to stop them and Peter simply trying to keep up. It was almost as if she were once again able to turn and laugh with Lily at the boys' stupidity, like they always used to. The tears came unbidden.  
  
"Stupid prat," she said, berating herself in the darkness. "How the hell are you going to survive a year here when you cry at little things like that?" But she knew it was for the best, much like re-breaking a bone that had healed incorrectly. Simply burying the past and refusing to face it was unhealthy, and that was exactly what she had done. Hiding her past, throwing herself into her work, all led to where she was now. Outside of Arabella the Auror, she was nothing. The girl who had stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters all those years ago was screaming to be let out, and she intended to set her free.  
  
That still didn't make it all any easier to do. It wasn't as if she didn't want to reclaim herself; far from it. She simply hadn't reckoned on the pain involved re-breaking that bone. Reviving a personality was more difficult than it sounded.  
  
After the Wizarding world had acclimatized itself to life after the Fall, and the Aurors no longer were in a life-or-death hunt for Voldemort, it seemed as if everyone in the blasted Department had made it their covert operation to find her someone to make her forget Sirius. Finally she simply stopped saying 'yes' to all the second cousins and friends of the family that people were throwing at her right, left and center. The truth sunk in slowly to everyone that she didn't want to forget.  
  
When he had escaped from Azkaban, she had been so certain he would try to come to her for help. The Wizarding world regarded his escape as proof that he was truly guilty; no one other than a dark wizard would be capable of escaping the dreaded isle. Still, Arabella had to hope, maybe his escape proved just the opposite. Weren't those trapped on the island really just trapped inside their own minds? Perhaps the reason he able to break out was because he didn't have that atrocity on his conscience. And if he hadn't betrayed Lily and James, perhaps his flight meant that he was going after those who had? This thin ray of hope seemed to shimmer more brightly day after day… until she realized he wouldn't be coming back to her at all.  
  
Then came the day she caught her tail. One of the younger Aurors must have been assigned to watch her small apartment in Leeds, most likely to report if she was harboring Sirius there. But Arabella, more experienced in surveillance had spotted her. It wasn't until then that she realized the real reason Sirius was staying away. Her own colleagues were spying on her! Needless to say, when she came walked into the Ministry later that day she was livid. That had been nearly eighteen months after Sirius had escaped; eighteen months of the Ministry knowing about her every movement. Later that month, when the letter came inviting her to take the DADA job at Hogwarts, she accepted without a moment's hesitation.  
  
Staring out across the fields again, she knew she was no closer to sleep than she had been before, but simply remembering what had brought her here gave her the peace of a hundred nights of eight-hour rest. If Sirius was here, she thought to herself with a smile, there was nothing to keep her from finding him.  
  
***  
  
Ginny Weasely sat up far later than normal in the common room that night, also unable to sleep. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was making her very uneasy. To her it seemed as if the entire castle was on edge. Even Fred and George were more tense than usual, but for them that simply amounted to the two of them setting off a few more Filibusters and telling a tad more jokes than usual.  
  
She supposed that it was the way last year had ended'. That whole 'Return of the Dark Lord' business was bound to affect everyone, she thought wryly. She wouldn't concede to the notion that there was something else unexplained as well.  
  
Her place by the fire was so cozy, she was certain she would have dropped off long ago if she had been more relaxed. The fire was low, and her chair was soft, so why couldn't she enjoy the comfort? Something simply wasn't right.  
  
Creeping up to the dormitory, she shook her head at the closed door and raced down the steps. Creeping out of the Portrait Hole without waking the Fat Lady, she wandered along the halls silently, praying that she wouldn't run into Mrs. Norris. Since when did she start taking risks like this? She was the sensible one, the one who the others all went to when they were in trouble. She didn't run around the school at night? Wasn't that Harry, Ron and Hermione's job?  
  
The school was silent, but to Ginny it seemed as if the silence itself was deafening. Stealing around the corridors and muttering about her own stupidity, she continued on, uncertain about her own actions, yet powerless to stop them.  
  
A faint light appeared suddenly around the next corner, and Ginny frantically attempted to find a hiding place. It grew steadily brighter and brighter as she tried in vain to escape. Finally, it was upon her.  
  
"Miss Weasely," the Gray Lady said in her sad, yet gentle voice. "A bit late for a stroll, don't you think?"  
  
"Oh, Lady Jane," Ginny said, knowing that her relief must be evident. "I thought you were Filtch."  
  
"Not the kindest of comparisons, but understandable. What brings you out so late in the evening, Miss Weasely?"  
  
Even though Ginny was a Gryffindor at heart, the Ravenclaw ghost had become somewhat of a friend to Ginny, especially during her second year when she was had still been reeling over her episode with Tom Riddle and the Chamber of Secrets.  
  
"Just restless tonight, Lady Jane." Even in death, Ginny still thought it appropriate for this kind, regal soul to retain her title.  
  
"Restlessness is one thing, my dear, but I sense that something else is troubling you tonight."  
  
"Well, the school is still a bit shook after last term," Ginny said, dodging the real issue. "I suppose it's a bit of that."  
  
"Certainly. Is that all?" Those three little words triggered an explosion went off inside her head; all the intangible things that were bothering her crystallized into words that were just screaming to get out. She could tell the sympathetic ghost all her troubles and get them off her chest, using her as sort of a supernatural therapist, as ridiculous as that sounded. Then she could get back to the Tower and get to bed where she belonged. Certainly someone who'd been dead since the 1500's wouldn't judge her for the strange thoughts and feelings she had been experiencing?  
  
But even with the words so clear in her mind, she replied, "Yes, that's it. Good night, Lady Jane."  
  
The ghost looked sadder than usual, but not surprised. "Good night, Miss Weasely," she called to Ginny's back as the obviously troubled girl headed back to her room.  
  
  
  
***  
  
The next morning, the Great Hall was filled with the usual start-of-term chatter. The Gryffindor table was especially lively.  
  
"Behold! Our newest creation! Opera Pellets!" Fred plopped down a bright blue ball roughly the size of a shooter marble, then ran for the hills. The thing suddenly exploded in a cloud of purple smoke and emitted the fifth movement of 'The Marriage Of Figaro' as loud and off key as a Howler. Harry, his fingers in his ears, noted upon a glance up to the High Table that while McGonagall looked torn between her usual stern countenance and mild amusement, Dumbledore was outright chuckling.  
  
"Your brothers," Hermione said to Ron after the singing had ended, wearing an expression very similar to McGonagall's. "Honestly, if only you two used your powers for good instead of stupid…"  
  
"You wound me, milady!" George said with a dramatic hand to his forehead. "After all, amidst these dark times-"  
  
"Stuff it, Forge." His twin seemed to have a better sense of when not to carry the joke to it's grave.  
  
"Oh, all right." Fred turned to Ron. "Hey, kinda funny about Mum and Dad's friend being our new DADA prof, huh?"  
  
Ron's ears turned as red as his hair. "Oh, yeah… very," he stammered, taking a long drink of Pumpkin Juice to mask his obvious trepidation in the matter.  
  
"Personally, I'm looking forward to having a woman DADA professor." Harry had to smile. Hermione seemed to be attempting to draw Fred and George away from irritating Ron and into a discussion about modern feminism. "Think of all she will be brining to the subject! After all, she was right up there with Moody as one of the top Aurors."  
  
"Provided she really is Arabella Figg. Remember last year, everyone," Seamus Finnigan said with a bit of grin on his face. "After all, we don't know if she drinks from a hip flask yet."  
  
"Oh, shut it. I'm sure they wouldn't be about to try the same trick again," Ron said dismissively. "Think about it. Dumbledore would be on the lookout for something like that."  
  
"Ginny?" Fred said suddenly, concern etched on his face. "You feeling alright?"  
  
"Yeah," George added, taking a good look at his sister. "You look like death warmed over in an oven on low heat with a sprig of mint."  
  
"Sod off," she said with a half-hearted glare. "I just didn't get enough sleep last night."  
  
"Why?" Ron asked, glad the focus was off the new professor.  
  
"Because, Ron," Ginny said, adopting a weary, patronizing tone, "When one's seratonin levels are out of balance, causing cidarian rhythms to be off- kilter, the subject typically has difficulty maintaining normal REM cycles. This can be caused by any number of things; poor diet, emotional distress or," she added, directing her tone to Fred and George as well as Ron, "Irritating older brothers!"  
  
At this, Harry, Hermione and even Ron all burst out laughing. The look on Fred and George's faces was amusing, to say the least.  
  
"Well," George said huffily. "Percy's not around!"  
  
"Let's see here," Professor McGonagall said rather distractedly as she attempted to hand out the new terms schedules to her brood of Gryffindors. "Granger, Weasely, Potter, Weasely, Weasely, Finnigan, Thomas, and… oh dear, Miss Weasely, you don't look at all well. Are you feeling ill?"  
  
Ginny stood up in a huff. "I'm perfectly fine! Is this castle so dull that the topic of everyone's concern is that my sleeping patterns are a bit off?" She grabbed her schedule and her bag and left with the entire Great Hall looking on.  
  
"You guys," Ron said a little shakily. "I think something's seriously wrong."  
  
"Why, whatever gave you that idea, Ron?" Fred said, trying to regain some of his usual good humor. "I thought she was just peachy."  
  
"Well, we can't worry too much about her right now," Harry said, diverted by the sheet of paper in his hand. "We've got Potions first off today. Hey! Wait a tick… This is great!"  
  
"Terrific, now Harry's gone around the bend," Ron said. "What's great about Potions?"  
  
"The fact that we don't have it with the Slytherins anymore!"  
  
"Well," Hermione said with a bit of a grin on her face, "This year's starting to look up already. Seems we're paired with Ravenclaw."  
  
At this, Harry's gut lurched. The simple mention of Cho's house brought back a very painful interlude from the end of last year. While he had be stowing his trunk in the back of Uncle Dursely's Volvo, he had overheard Cho Chang, his first crush, speaking to her parents.  
  
"Mum, Dad," she had been saying when Harry first cottoned on to her voice behind him, "I've made up my mind. I'm going to accept the exchange to Beauxbatons."  
  
"But dear," the soft feminine voice that had to be her mother responded, "I thought you didn't want to leave Hogwarts."  
  
"Well, now I don't want to go back."  
  
"Cho," another voice, this one masculine, said gently, "Perhaps you should think this over a bit. You've had a terrible shock…"  
  
Harry didn't hear the rest of the exchange, because it seemed to him that a bird was flapping its wings wildly in his ears. He had hoped desperately to see her on the Hogwarts Express, to know that she was coming back, but she wasn't. The episode with Professor Figg was actually a blessing in disguise, as it kept his mind off the fact that the girl he had thought he was in love with was in France. It might as well be Antarctica.  
  
"Harry, oh Harry?" Ron was waving his hand in front of his face. "Anyone at home, or have you permanently buggered off?"  
  
"Shut it, Ron," Harry said good-naturedly. Determined to put Cho Chang out of his mind, he gathered his books. This had less to do with love and more to do with self-preservation. He had two hours of Snape to deal with and, quite frankly he needed all his wits about him to survive that.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Ginny ran at full speed up the stairs to Charms, praying that her crying jag in the girl's bathroom hadn't made her late for class. Fortunately, she realized as she arrived, huffing and puffing, to the third floor that the few people milling about were just those who had finished their breakfasts early. She still had plenty of time.  
  
Sliding to the floor in the deserted corridor outside Professor Flitwick's classroom, she was glad for the moment of silence. It was so unlike her to blow up like she had at breakfast. Making a silent promise to herself that she would apologize to everyone, including Professor McGonagall at lunch, she pulled out her Book of Standard Spells, Volume Four and began to skim over Summoning Charms. She didn't get very far along before footfalls around the corner signaled someone approaching.  
  
Expecting one of her Classmates she was surprised to see a solitary Draco Malfoy appear in the hallway. Even more surprising was his reaction to her.  
  
"'Lo, Ginny," he tossed her way, not with distain but with almost disinterest. "It is Ginny, right?"  
  
Not trusting herself to speak kindly, she merely nodded.  
  
"Waiting for Charms to start?"  
  
Since when did Malfoy make small talk with her? Since when did he know her name? She nodded again.  
  
A thin smirk graced his lips. "You capable of speech?"  
  
A touch of the usual derision in his voice had returned, reviving her anger towards him and his entire gene pool.  
  
"When I care to. Unfortunately I just don't feel like wasting the oxygen right now. Nothing to speak to, anyway."  
  
With a very un-Malfoylike shrug, he turned his back towards her and continued down the hallway. "Whatever."  
  
He left, making Ginny wonder if she wasn't the only one feeling not quite herself these days.  
  
***  
  
Draco Malfoy was indeed feeling less and less like himself. He too couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. He didn't spend anytime around his 'friends', as they now irritated the hell out of him. He hadn't called anyone a 'Mudblood' in weeks. And since when did a Malfoy take lip from a Weasely? The haughty, unaffected air he usually cloaked himself with seemed less and less comforting, and he too was plagued by thoughts of the end of last term.  
  
He had acted like any good son of a Death Eater when he found out about Voldemort. He had even taunted Potter and those two prats Granger and Weasely about it. However, even as the words had left his mouth at the end of last term, he had felt something he had never felt before: guilt.  
  
He, Draco Malfoy, the son of Voldemort's right hand man, felt guilty about that Hufflepuff's death. It wasn't as if he had killed Diggory, or had even had any part of it, but that twinge of remorse had grown all summer long.  
  
He supposed that was what had made the pain of the hexes the lot had thrown at him even worse; that and he had to wait until his mother came back from holiday to have them cured. The strange effects were above his ability to heal, and his father, mortified that his son had been cursed by a bunch of Weaselys and a Mudblood, as well as Potter, had refused to help him. The combination of hexes had left him scarred for a good two weeks.  
  
He could handle his father being disgusted with him. His mother had just looked sad, almost like she knew what he had done to deserve them… and that was somehow the worst of all. It simply exacerbated the prickle of un- Malfoylike culpability he was already feeling.  
  
He had spent most of the summer flying around Malfoy Manor, trying to master moves like the Wroski Feint, since he knew Potter would be itching to try them out on him next year. It seemed like the harder he practiced, the more he felt like a damned fool prancing about on an expensive broomstick. Malfoys never felt like fools.  
  
It was then - flying about in the hot summer air - that it occurred to him what was bothering him so damned much. He was the little carbon copy of his father that he everyone had always expected him to be; his family, Potter, everyone. He was programmed to be the perfect little Death Eater Jr. And now, he realized, that wasn't what he wanted.  
  
Why? Why shouldn't he want something he had been trained for his whole lifetime? It wasn't simply Diggory's death, or the hexes, or his mother; it was like something inside him was telling him that he was wrong. It would seem that Draco Malfoy had grown a conscience.  
  
The initial irritation of that realization passed, and now he was back at school and not exactly certain what to do about it. He wandered about aimlessly, not sure if he should approach that Gryffindor Mod Squad and act like some damn groupie or just wait until some halfway intelligent Slytherin figured out what was going on and did the kindness of offing him in his sleep. Neither option was particularly appealing or realistic.  
  
In the past it would have made him marginally satisfied that Ginny Weasely was obviously as miserable as he was, but now it just depressed him. What was supposed to make him happy now? For a Malfoy, Weasely torture always added up to a good time. Now he just felt drawn to her, and for some intangible reason, he wanted to help her. The Gods of Irony must have been having a ball. For the first time in his life, Draco wanted to help someone, and it of course, had to be a Weasely.  
  
So, wandering slowly to the Divination tower, he hoped that at least Trewleny was her usual batty self. Her class was always a good cure for insomnia.  
  
***  
  
"Hurry up, Ron!"  
  
"Slow down then, Hermione! No one should be this anxious for Snape's class."  
  
"I'm with Mio. If we're late, you'll be disemboweling horned toads again for sure!"  
  
"Oh, fine, you prat."  
  
The trio made it to the Potions Dungeon with time to spare. Everyone was milling around, speaking with the Ravenclaws who would now be sharing their two hours of torture. As usual, the three took a bench near the back of the classroom. In Snape's class, it was always best to stay out of his line of sight.  
  
"I sure hope that Snape is in a good mood. I don't feel much like getting poisoned today."  
  
"Oh, hush, Harry," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm sure he's not about to do that again."  
  
"Yeah," Ron added helpfully, "And since when is Snape ever in a good mood?"  
  
Snape then came sweeping into the classroom like he always did, taking that extra moment to glare a glare of utmost loathing towards Harry. Surprisingly, though, he did not enter alone.  
  
"Fleur?" Ron said, his voice squeaking. "What in the bloody hell is she doing here?"  
  
Sure enough, Fleur Delacoeur was walking gracefully behind Snape, looking as beautiful as she did at last year's tournament.  
  
"Mr. Weasely, if you keep your mouth shut for a moment, I'll tell you. Five points from Gryffindor."  
  
Harry was quite glad that he was sitting in the middle of the three, because if Hermione heard what Ron had just muttered under his breath, he was certain that she would have reprimanded him.  
  
"Some of you may remember Miss Delacoeur from the Triwizard Tournament last year." Here Snape paused to give a very odd look at Harry. It could almost be called sympathy, if it wasn't for the fact it was still laced with derision. "She has been given a teaching internship at Hogwarts this year, and will be assisting me this term. Later in the year, she will move to another class, but in the meantime I expect you to treat her with the same respect you do me."  
  
Even Hermione had a difficult time stifling a giggle.  
  
"So. As you begin preparing for your O.W.L.s this year-" Now he was glaring at Neville Longbottom, who was trembling in his seat like usual, "-We will be moving onto some more difficult potions. Please open your texts to page sixty-four and begin the early preparation for the Rigaudon Elixir..."  
  
Two hours later, hot, sweaty and irritable, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws emerged from the classroom. It turned out that the Rigaudon Elixir increased one of the drinker's most natural talents. This effect would have been humorous if it wasn't for the supremely annoying side effects in most cases. Hermione had quoted Hogwarts, A History six times in a row, and Ron and Dean began to engage in a real version of Wizard Chess before Snape broke it up long enough to take ten points from Gryffindor.  
  
"Why didn't you try to stop me?" Hermione said, annoyed that her voice was now hoarse from speaking for two hours straight.  
  
"What were we going to do, Herm" Ron said, nursing a jammed finger from hitting Dean in the ribs. "Stick a sock in your mouth?"  
  
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, then turned to Harry. "I'm amazed, Harry. You didn't do a thing!"  
  
"Yeah, Harry," Ron said, turning towards Harry. "I know that it can't be that you aren't any good at anything."  
  
"I don't know. It was kind of like fighting the Imperius Curse. Just seemed kind of silly to summon my Firebolt and go zooming around the dungeon like that."  
  
"Wow. That's the second odd thing today." Hermione had that pensive look she always got when figuring something out.  
  
"What do you mean second, Herm?" Ron asked.  
  
"That elixir is well beyond Ordinary Wizardry Levels. I don't know why Snape had us do it."  
  
"Well, if it was to make me look like an idiot, it sure worked," Ron groused. "Of course, it was probably to get Harry to do something idiotic, now that I think about it."  
  
"I'm sure Snape would have been delighted," Hermione added, a bit of sarcasm lacing her words. "That would have given him the chance to take a round twenty points from Gryffindor."  
  
***  
  
Arabella came ambling into the Great Hall at lunchtime, thoroughly exhausted by the day's events. Her first three classes had all been Slytherins of varying ages, and the fifth year class had been the one she had approached with the most trepidation. She knew that both Draco Malfoy and several other Death Eaters' children were in that year, and had expected them to be quite obnoxious, seeing has she had at one point arrested most of their parents. They were by no stretch of the imagination polite, but all in all the morning had simply been too long. It was quite obvious to Arabella that the majority of the Slytherins had no interest in defending themselves against the Dark Arts.  
  
Sitting down at the Head Table next to Hagrid and McGonagall, she scooped up a bit of beef stew and tucked in.  
  
"Oy, 'Bella," Hagrid said, calling her by her childhood nickname. "How'd your firs' classes go?"  
  
"Oh, little bit of this…" she said, nonchalantly, "…A little bit of that," she added, gesturing her fork in the direction of the Slytherin table.  
  
McGonagall allowed herself a little bit of a chuckle. "Yes, I suppose that in your class that is a bit of a lost cause." She paused. "But still, we have to hold out hope…"  
  
"Aw, cheer up, Minnie," Hagrid said, a bit of potato caught in the wiry hairs of his beard. "Aft' all, with Dumbledore, I'm not worried."  
  
"Enough of this sort of talk," Dumbledore said, walking up behind Hagrid and clasping a hand on his mammoth shoulder. "I am most interested to know how classes are going."  
  
"What," Arabella said, a bit of a smirk on her face. "Weren't you spying on all of us using that little power known as invisibility?"  
  
Dumbledore returned her smile. "Of course, my dear Arabella, if I did do that, I wouldn't waste the power of surprise by telling you about it, now would I?"  
  
The good mood was broken by the approach of a surlier-that-normal Snape.  
  
"A thousand apologies," he said, managing to make the words carry none of their meaning. "Headmaster, I wish to speak with you."  
  
"Of course, Severus. If you will excuse me," Dumbledore said, bowing away from the table.  
  
Arabella waited until they had left the Great Hall to say what was on her mind. "That guy still creeps me out."  
  
"Oh, Arabella," McGonagall said, managing only barely to keep it from a scold. "You two never did get along."  
  
"Us two? Minerva, Snape didn't get along with anyone who wasn't a Slytherin. It wasn't just me."  
  
Fortunately, Jane Sinistra walked up to the table, interrupting what had the makings of a long and pointless debate. "Am I interrupting anything?"  
  
Jane had the classic beauty of a Grecian statue, and it was often joked that the reason so many of the sixth and seventh year boys signed up for Advanced Astronomy had nothing to do with the stars or planets.  
  
"Yes," Hagrid said, almost wearily. "Please sit down."  
  
Arabella and Minerva looked sheepish for a nanosecond, then resumed their normal banter.  
  
"So, Arabella," Jane said, taking a bite of her vegetarian quiche, "How's your first day back treating you? You had Slytherins all morning, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, but it was actually rather quiet. I have the fifth year Gryffindors and advanced DADA later, and I'm looking forward to those."  
  
"That means you get Fred and George Weasely this afternoon," McGonagall said, a grin slowly returning to her face. "If anything could make you regret your decision, those two are certainly it!"  
  
Arabella inwardly chuckled. She was quite certain those two troublemakers had nothing on the originals.  
  
  
  
*** 


	4. Advanced Defense Against The Dark Arts

Title: **Of Love And War (3/?)**

Author: Arabella Figgy

Email: arabellafiggy@hotmail.com

Category: Action/Adventure, Romance

Keywords: Sirius Black, Draco/Ginny, Fifth Year

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: All Four Books

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated Spells, Characters, Magical Creatures, Good Guys, Bad Guys, and Money (magical or not) belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers Productions and Scholastic, Inc. In no way does my use of them in this fiction seek to claim ownership, either financial or creative.

Summery: The new DADA professor (not surprisingly) has a secret. Hermione and Ron are up to something. Ginny and Draco can't sleep. And Voldemort has a hand in it all.

Pairings: Oh, come on. That would spoil it! 

Author's Notes: The only canonical change I have made (due only to my own stupidity) is my mis-aging of Professor McGonagall. I did not know she was older than dirt. I figured she was around 55, but aged well. I dunno. My bad. Please don't flame me on that, it irritates me enough as it is. I'm like Hermione; I hate being wrong! BTW, you flame me about the pairings Spam will come and poke you. On with the show!

Dedication: To my ever lovin' pals in the SCA. Seattle Rules!

***

Book One: Of Love And War

By Arabella Figgy

Chapter Three – Advanced Defense Against The Dark Arts

By the time the Fifth Year Gryffindors had filed into her classroom, Arabella was quite certain she had developed at least 2 peptic ulcers, if not one more for good measure. She wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see Harry and his friends slink to the back of the class, compounding her suspicions that Sirius had indeed been on the Hogwarts express that day. She recognized Frank Longbottom's son Neville, and felt the oh-so-familiar pang of remorse at the loss of dear friends. It was looking like no matter where she turned she was in for reminders of painful memories.

But often that came with the job description of life. Trying to rid her thoughts of the painful past, she stood up behind her desk to her considerable height of 5' 10'' and surveyed the class. When she herself had been in school, being the tall, lanky tomboy had always been a point of self-consciousness, but while teaching it was certainly coming in handy.

The students sat politely waiting for their new teacher to start the lesson while the new teacher herself was trying to figure out what to say. It wasn't bad enough that Sirius's godson was in the room, this was a reminder of the start of everything. It had been fifth year when Lily, James, Sirius and the rest of them had figured out what was going on; what the wizardry world was trying so desperately to cover up. The disappearances, the deaths, everything that heralded the rise to power of Voldemort had begun in _her _fifth year. And now these young men and women looking at her with such inquisitive eyes were about to witness the same thing, or possibly worse. How in the world was she supposed to prepare them for that?

In theory, her very experience should be enough to help her mold these young minds into the one's which would ultimately defeat the Dark Lord, but to say that comforted her in the slightest would be a gross falsehood. Expressing herself was not her strong point, as usually doing so would require language not appropriate for a teacher to use in front of 15 and 16 year olds. She was at a loss, so she fell back onto one time-tested Auror tricks.

Stalling for time.

"Good afternoon. As you may remember, I am Professor Arabella Figg and I will be your Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Before we get started, I'd like to take role."

***

Harry's mind wandered aimlessly as Professor Figg went through the role sheet, using the pause to take in the new addition to the Hogwarts faculty. She was tall, not quite as tall as Snape but easily the tallest woman out of all the teachers. She had dark brown eyes and almost gold hair, not blonde, but not brown either. She was pretty, but not the same pretty as his mom. When he looked at the pictures of his mother, he supposed all children thought their mother's were beautiful, but he knew that she actually had been. Professor Figg was just pretty.

What was her connection with Sirius? He sent Pig off that morning with a letter to him, asking him to explain, but something intangible told him he wouldn't get a straight answer out of his godfather. There was something defiantly going on there, but Harry was at a loss as to what.

At first, Ron supposed that Figg had led the hunt for Sirius when he escaped, but Hermione shot down that theory when she pointed out that if that was the case then she would have been all over them like a Niffler on a diamond-studded watch. Hermione thought there was every possibility that they had dated after Hogwarts, and may have had a long, drawn-out history with him, and Sirius wanted to avoid her, but that was Harry's cue to point out that she recognized him in his Animagus form, and that was hardly insinuative of a shallow bond created by some stupid romance. They had all been under the assumption that only Remus, Wormtail, Dumbledore and themselves had been privy to the knowledge that Sirius was an Animagus, so how did an Auror know about it? Did they all know? It seemed that if the ministry was aware of that fact, they would have published it in the Daily Prophet or something, but so far not a word. So did that meant that she hadn't told the Ministry that vital fact about Britain's Most Wanted Criminal? The whole thing just didn't add up.

Ron still looked upon Professor Figg with the utmost suspicion, and most likely would continue to do so until Sirius himself told him otherwise. Hermione couldn't exactly put her finger on what was bothering her about the whole mess either, but she knew that there was more than met the eye in this situation. Harry privately agreed.

Prying himself out of his thoughts, he turned his attention once again to the woman at the front of the room that had just called 'Longbottom?'

Neville squeaked, "Present."

"Patil?"

"Here!"

"Potter?"

Harry looked at her, and was surprised to see the same look in her eyes that Professor Lupin had two years ago. That strange sorrow mixed with something else he couldn't explain. Who was Arabella Figg?

"Here."

***

Arabella couldn't help but remember what the smallish boy with the telltale scar and messy hair like his father's looked like when he was a baby. She had been at the birth; she had stood with Sirius at the Christening. She could remember looking into his wooden crib and laughing as he would tug at James's glasses. Then she remembered that the eyes, which looked so much like his mother's, had witnessed the return of Voldemort to his body. Suppressing a shudder, she moved on.

"Thomas?"

"Here."

"Weasely?"

Ron looked up at her and she couldn't help but smile. He looked so much like Arthur did when he was younger. Granted, he and Molly were much older, but Arthur's kindness in the Ministry was renowned, and she had fond memories of the times she and Sirius had been invited to dinner at the Burrow.

"Here."

Stalling tactics over, Arabella took a deep breath and prayed that she wouldn't make an ass of herself.

"Well, I suppose you would like to know what I'm doing here, hm?" Twenty or so eager faces looked back at her. "I am a retired Auror from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm an alumnus of Hogwarts, '78 Gryffindor, and played Beater on the house team. Dumbledore asked me to come here to teach my former favorite subject, so here I am. Any questions?"

The class looked to a person like they were bursting with questions, but none were willing to ask.

None, that is, except Hermione.

"Professor Figg?" Hermione's voices piped up from the back as the class breathed a collective sigh of relief. Arabella surveyed the small girl sitting by Ron.

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry somehow wasn't surprised that Professor Figg didn't have to check the class list for her name.

"I was curious, why did you leave the Ministry?" Arabella couldn't help but chuckle. That was the exact question she had been expecting everyone wanted to know but that no one would ask.

"Well, Miss Granger, that is an excellent question. I suppose if you do the math you would figure out that I was a 'rookie' per se during the Darkest years. On a number of occasions I would be included in task forces that were in charge of ferreting out pockets of Death Eaters and whatnot."

"Did you ever see You-Know-Who?" Dean Thomas blurted out, seeming to echo the question on everyone's mind.

"Yes." Professor Figg's voice got very quiet. "I had the honor of 'meeting' Voldemort on several occasions. That, in conjunction with a number of other events led to my decision to retire. I haven't worked in the field for nearly ten years. My service in the Ministry has been contained to largely forensic work in the office." Hermione looked over at Harry, who seemed to be thinking the same thing he was. What if Sirius had something to do with her retirement?

"Professor Figg?" Neville looked up rather timidly, which was saying something for him, as he always looked rather timid. "What will we be learning this year?"

Arabella smiled. There was another one who looked so much like his parents. While Frank Longbottom had never been a catch for those with shallow minds, you couldn't ask for a dearer man. It was no surprise that the attack on he and his wife shocked and angered like it did.

"Well, in addition for preparing you for your O.W.L.s later this term, I also intend to cumulate on what you have already learned from Professors Lupin and, well, sort of Moody." Some of the class snickered. "Curses, counter-curses, Dark creatures, Really Dark creatures, along with advanced defenses against all of the above. What to do if you're caught in a dark alleyway with a Death Eater, things like that…" She caught herself rambling and noticed that the class looked torn between terror and amusement. "Well, if I haven't scared any of you off, let's begin. Everyone, grab your wands. I want to start off with some basic Dark creature defenses…"

They were put through the paces with Boggarts, Grindylows and Hinkypucks once again, and then went into tactics against Leithfolds, Manticores and Sphinxes. Arabella was more than mildly impressed that Harry was capable of conjuring a Patronus, and had been for several years. When she found out that he was capable of fighting off the Imperius Curse, she was stunned. No one, not even James had been capable of fighting off one of the Unforgivables before they were seventeen. Of course, if one looked at it that way, he fought off Avada Kevarda before he was even one.

The class left buzzing about the lesson, and Arabella supposed that she couldn't have done that badly considering the excitement on her students' faces. The class was almost empty when Hermione Granger told Harry and Ron to wait for her outside.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Arabella said, curious as to what she wanted. Already she had seen Hermione's formidable mental prowess and hoped she hadn't screwed up something in the lesson.

"Professor Figg," Hermione began, rather hesitantly for one usually so forward. "I know that you haven't asked, and this might seem a little foolhardy, seeing how you were an Auror once, but you were right."

Arabella was puzzled, but schooled her features so seem merely interested.

"Right about what?" she asked.

"That was Sirius on the train." She hurried to leave, turning back at the door. "Just thought you might want to know."

The pounding in her ears was enough to drown out the feeble thank you she sent toward the retreating Hermione. She had thought it was him, had convinced herself it was him, but confronted with the fact the dog on the train was indeed the only man she had ever loved, she didn't know what to do now. Classes were done for the day, and she certainly couldn't eat now, but no other options presented themselves. Her mind going from frantic to analytical, she began to walk with a very preoccupied air.

Hermione hadn't said that Sirius told her to tell Arabella. That was indicative that Hermione simply understood the situation, not that Sirius wanted to see her. While it didn't surprise her, she was saddened nonetheless. Who did he think she was? Barty Crouch?

But in theory, with Sirius being on the run for the past two years, he would have no idea that she wasn't a field agent anymore. Of course he wouldn't have heard anything about it in Azkaban either, so where was she expecting him to find out?

Dumbledore. He probably knew everything about everyone, and while she knew he wasn't a true Seer, he did have an uncanny knack about knowing people's problems as well. He knew where Sirius was; she was sure of that, and he knew she wasn't an active Auror and hadn't been for many years. He could have told him. _Of course, since this was Dumbledore,_ she thought wryly, _the chances of him telling either one of them anything in the form of a straight answer was damned near slim to none._

It was with surprise she found herself at the doors to the Great Hall. She wasn't quite sure how her feet had managed to get her there, or why. Stepping into the vast hall, she was greeted with the usual chatter, and was quite glad to see how many students looked up and smiled when they saw her. She couldn't be a total louse at teaching and be getting smiles from the Ravenclaws. They had a discerning eye as far as those in charge of their education went.

Absent, she noticed were Harry, Hermione and Ron Weasely. She had to smile. It was a wonder her ears weren't burning. She had no doubt what those three were discussing.

***

"You did what?!" Ron and Harry cried at the same time in the corridor outside the DADA classroom.

"You guys don't honestly think she's about to turn him in, do you?" Hermione said, simultaneously defensive and certain she was right, which Harry had to inwardly wonder at. "Dumbledore knows what he's doing!"

"Right, he may think he knows what he's doing," Ron said supremely, "But he also 'knew what he was doing' when he hired Moody and Lockhart!"

"Harry, you think I'm right, don't you?" Hermione turned on him, and Harry wished for the first time in quite some time that there was a Blast-Ended Skwert to distract him for a bit.

"Uh… well, both of you have a point. Hermione, I don't think that Professor Figg is out to get Sirius…"

"See!" She said pointedly to Ron.

"But!" Harry said, turning to Ron who looked almost hurt that he would side with Hermione over him. "I still don't think it was the brightest thing you've ever done, Hermione. We don't know her exact intentions." 

"Told you!" Ron said back to Herimone, and this looked like it had the makings of a long, pointless argument before Neville rounded the corner and approached them, a strange smile on his face.

"Hey, Harry, Ron, Hermione," Neville said, seeming a great deal more chipper than he had been in class. "Is Professor Figg in there?"

"I think she's in the Great Hall, Neville," said Ron. "You know, dinner and all that? She left here a few minutes ago. Something wrong?"

"No, no," Neville said still with a bit of a grin on his face. "Just wanted to talk to her. Bye!"

They watched him leave, and then Harry and Ron burst out laughing. 

"What's so funny?" Hermione said, irritation lacing her voice. Nothing aggravated her more than not getting a joke, as usually that meant it was on her.

"Neville fancies her!" Ron said between his gales of laughter.

"Did you see that sotted look on his face? It's obvious!" Harry said, supporting himself on Ron's doubled over back.

"Oh, stop it. How do you know that he simply didn't want to ask about his parents or something? She had to know them." Ron kept laughing while Harry stood up straight.

"How did you know about that?"

Hermione looked taken aback, as if she was being accused of doing something wrong. "I… I read about them in _Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord._ It's awful, really what happened to them. I never brought it up because Neville didn't. How'd you know?"

He noted that Hermione didn't think he had read about it in a book.

"Dumbledore told me last year. He asked me to not tell anybody about it since Neville obviously wanted to keep it quiet."

Ron looked irritated. "What happened? Don't tell me you aren't going to tell me now that you two both know!"

Hermione bent down and pulled a copy of _Rise And Fall of the Dark Lord_ out of her over-stuffed bag. "Here, read this, and then we won't have to compromise our consciences by telling you!"

With Ron muttering about conspiracies to make him literate and Hermione looking almost criminally smug, the three finally headed down to dinner. 

***

"Arabella?"

Jane Sinistra's voice seemed miles away, and it wasn't without difficulty that Arabella pulled herself back to the present.

"Hm?" She tried to adopt an unaffected air, but it wasn't good enough to sell.

"I asked if you wanted to go with me to pick up Mudungus at the station after dinner." Jane looked concerned, which wasn't a huge surprise. She knew that she had been acting flighty ever since she stepped on the train, but for God's sake, what did they expect from her?

"Sure. Haven't seen the old con in ages," Arabella said, finding it was still easy to laugh about her old friends who hadn't been imprisoned or blown up. Mudungus Fletcher had a reputation during his years at Hogwarts as the sneakiest Hufflepuff in school history. He would constantly be planning some way to get a quick sickle or two, and his success rate was actually quite high. But he was quite a spendthrift, so he was more or less always broke. Still, he had a heart of gold, and Arabella was glad he would be coming back as well.

"No big surprise about Trewlney, huh?" Arabella said, sculpting the mashed potatoes on her plate into nondescript patterns.

"None in the slightest," McGonagall put in, not surprising since she couldn't stand the former Diviniation professor. "I think the request to purchase all new teacups made of platinum was the last straw for Dumbledore. That and the fact she predicted his imminent death."

"No joke," Arabella agreed. They were discussing the recent request of Dumbeldore's that Sybil go on a yearlong 'sabbatical' on the school's expense. That was the reason Mudungus was on his way to Hogwarts.

"Can you imagine the looks on the kids faces when they find out that Mudungus is a true Seer?"

"Faking their homework will be a thing of the past, that's for sure. The numerous disadvantages of having a teacher who can read your mind…" Arabella laughed.

Snape once again used his talent for showing up when everyone was having a good time and thus spoiling it. He looked more harsh than usual, which she supposed was attributed to the fact that he was looking McGonagall straight in the eye with an expression that gave Jane and Arabella the creeps. Before he said a word, however Minerva stood up.

"Excuse me, please." With that and not another look back, she left the hall with Snape, leaving Jane and Arabella looking on.

"Now what in the hell was that all about?"

***

Once Professors Snape and McGonagall were safely ensconced in her classroom, they immediately dropped their stern air and fell against each other.

"Severus, this isn't wise." McGonagall whispered, not pulling away.

"I know," he whispered back, not pulling away either. "But I had to see you before I left." 

"I didn't mean in there just now, I mean the whole thing!" She pulled him even tighter, as if her body was rebelling against the words. "I'm old enough to be your mother."

"You're prettier than her," Snape deadpanned.

"Thank you, I think." McGonagall composed herself to pull away enough to look at his face. "Severus, be careful."

"Well, actually, I was planning on being completely reckless. Much like your fool lot of Gryffindors," he added, waiting to see her reaction. He wasn't disappointed.

"My fool what? Serverus Snape, you take that…" he cut her off with a hard kiss, then left the room quickly, not wanting to say goodbye. If you didn't say goodbye, then that meant you were coming back.

***

Harry and Ron were enjoying several of their favorite pastimes at once, bugging Hermione because they weren't doing their homework, laughing at Fred and George's antics and, of course, Wizard Chess. Even Ron was more relaxed than before, mainly because Ginny was taking a nap in the chair next to his. She still looked drawn, however, even in her sleep, and Harry couldn't help noticing the looks that Ron, Hermione and even Fred and George threw her way along with is own.

"Check and Mate! Got you again, Harry!" Ron said cheerfully. There were few things he enjoyed more than beating the Boy Who Lived at something mundane like chess. Sitting back and propping his feet up, he turned towards Hermione.

"So Herm," he said with a bit of a mean smirk on his face. "You going to be trying out for Quidditch?" 

She looked up from her Rune chart and gave him a loose grin. "No, I don't have to try out for my position. Spectators are allowed no matter what."

Harry laughed, knowing as well as Hermione did how much Ron wanted to make house Keeper this year. His brother's were joint captains this year, and Ron was quite good, but the competition was fierce and McGonagall didn't play favorites.

"Aren't you two even going to start on the reading tonight for Professor Figg's class? I mean, really it's not half bad," she added, flipping through the pages. "It's actually quite interesting."

"Hermione," Ron said in an exasperated air, "You think Arithimancy is interesting." Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

Just then, Ginny caused a minor disruption by bolting awake, screaming. Hermione rushed along with Ron to her side, and everyone in the Common Room went white. 

"Gin!" Ron said, shakily. "What is it?" But Ginny just kept screaming until her eyes focused enough for her to see where she was. Throwing her arms around her brother's neck, Ron looked like a cornered animal, uncomfortably rubbing her back. Harry got close enough to hear the two words she kept repeating.

"They're coming, they're coming, they're coming…"

***

Once again, Arabella found herself staring at the grounds in the late evening, trying to find solace enough to go to sleep. It wasn't fair, really. Her mind was actually reasonably calm considering the day's events. Even with what Hermione had told her about Sirius, she still didn't know what to do. She supposed that somewhere in the back of her subconscious, the knowledge that Sirius was somewhere near her was what was keeping her awake.

Deciding that some warm tea was just what the mediwizard ordered, she headed down towards the Hufflepuff Common Room, tickling the pear that admitted one to the kitchens.

Hundreds of little feet pattered towards her, and she had to smile. The Hogwarts House Elves never slept.

"What is we getting you, miss?" one squeaked up to her.

"Could I get a pot of tea, if it isn't too much trouble?" She hated using their eager personalities against them, but even the simple task of boiling water seemed light years beyond her right now.

Not a blink of an eye later she was leaving the kitchen with a full service tray in her hands. Retracing her steps back to her room, she passed the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office. Perhaps she should talk with the wizened headmaster. He had a knack of knowing exactly what to say. He might even be inclined to tell her where Sirius was. Deciding that using the tea as a front, she would pay a midnight social call on Albus.

After giving the password (Fizzing Whizzbie) she rode up the spiraling staircase to the top. After a brisk knock, she entered.

"Professor, I brought by some tea…"

She never heard the porcelain drop and shatter, nor felt the hot tea against her slippered feet. All she saw was the man she had thought of more than anyone else during the past few days. All she saw was the man who she loved. All she noticed was Sirius Black standing across the room.

***


End file.
